The Clothing Purge, Podcasting And Predicaments Of Free Time

I have been podcasting daily, mostly catching up on my favorite, "ArmChair Expert" with Dax Shepherd. I've started some kind of strange spring cleaning thing, without having watched that "Tidying Up" thing on Netflix so I'm proud of me for not needing that, and tomorrow I will have an excess of "free time," that I am slightly anxious about how to handle. Let's get this Friday going!

I had stared at my closet often this week just kind of looking at things, mostly in disappointment. It wasn't that I didn't have enough or that I wanted a shopping binge, which is odd for me, as for many years shopping was indeed my cardio, but rather I just had so much I didn't even really wear. 

Oddly enough I remembered each occasion for which I bought stuff and so much of it, I just don't have the reason to wear it more than once. Church is way less church-y in terms of dressing these days, and I don't go out to dress up worthy functions so these dresses my mom decides I must have are very unnecessary. I used to wear dresses to work, but I'm way more comfy in my expanding obsession with leggings. 

I just kept looking and asking myself, "Why do you have all of this when you wear almost none of it? Some of it looks old and raggedy too! Just get rid of it!" So I started to fill multiple bags with things and it was freeing. 

Last year I passed on dresses to my nieces because, while I always donate to St. Vincent de Paul, I wanted to know who would extend their love to gorgeous, quality clothing, for another fashionable round. I do have one of those bags for them awaiting a box also. 

My next project is purses. I have so many beloved Betsey Johnson bags but I rarely switch out purses anymore. My current one is a good year and a half old now because I rarely treat myself to "unnecessary" things. It's time for them to move along as they are just collecting dust.

As far as podcasting I haven't found many that really resonate or keep my attention, so I've stayed with the familiar and am just playing catch up. I heard a snippet from an installment called "No Feeling is Final," which was a telling introspective of someone's depression and internal battles that was so amazing but I couldn't find the installment in it's entirety so it fell short. I tried some NPR ones and they are also lacking for me personally. The crime ones are okay but I much prefer a kick ass documentary.

The free time predicament is so new and strange to me. I guess we're entering that stage where I will be able to do more things now. I saw some meme about not having kids with the intention of never being around them, we're meant to watch them grow blah blah, but can we face it please? Both the children and parents need a break from each other every once in awhile and it's okay. 

My daughter is 6 and I think I have spent in total, maybe 8 nights away from her? And they are almost exclusively her being away from the house with like her dad on a Disney trip, or a sleep over with family when we travel. It's kind of crazy.

Tomorrow she will be at a day camp for like 9 hours. I never have a day to do whatever I want with space to clean or go for a long walk or work out or nap. No truly, I never have an ENTIRE DAY. I get a few hours when the husband takes her to a party solo or when I go out with girl friend but a whole day? And on top of this, the husband is working his last day of a 10 day stretch so, I honestly don't know what I "should" be doing. It's kind stressing me out!

I had written a post about do I be social or do I just do whatever I want and how I should spend my time but now it us upon me and I'm like huh...seriously, besides work out and clean...what do I do?

I think this week has been a mental wrestling match for me with a lot of time to gather my thoughts and kind of, position myself for certain things to unfold. I don't just mean that in reference to the last season of Game of Thrones, by the way, but in general. I've been working a lot on my self care, new routines and figuring out a lot of really personal things, so I think the podcasting, the purge and the unknown "to do list" of free time issues are a reflection of that. 

This week has been pretty...okay. It's been relatively calm and with good strides in most avenues, I will admit. Sometimes the calm makes me more unhinged than the chaos, as I've also divulged previously. I consider every baby step in the right direction, at least a STEP in a positive direction to say the least. On the eve of an unknown day I just plan on tackling today, and then this evening as well as I can, and then moving on from there.

I've felt grateful to all you readers these past few weeks and especially in taking the journey with me. We're going to keep this momentum going. Thank you all so much for your time and commentary. Happy Friday!

The Florida Move - Who, What, When, Where...Maybe Even Why?

We're inching closer to a full decade as Floridians and my husband also has reminded me, I've officially lived in Florida longer than I did in Oregon and I'm 3 years shy of beating out my 13 years in Pennsylvania. The Florida move was a big one for my husband but less so for me, and 10 years later I figure I can better explain the move now, as opposed to before.

When I was all of 7 years old and obsessed with Father of The Bride with Steve Martin, I decided I was going to get married in my dad's church, have the reception at our house, that I loved so much, of course stay close by to family and raise my kids right there, right? Why would you ever leave "home?" That's how it worked right?

By 13 my mom was consistently out of the picture and my dad, having moved to Pennsylvania for my mom and her family more than anything else, was growing tired of being where he no longer seemingly had a reason to solidify his roots. My dad attempted to find us a secondary space in North Carolina, our version of a summer home he bought for him and my mom. When the shit hit the fan, he lost the house, and all his future plans, so he started devise a decision on what he wanted in terms of a new life alone.

He decided on Oregon. My mom ended up in Delray Beach, Florida for her first solid year of stability. I came down for summer camp and visits and much like the opposite of Frozen's Elsa, "The heat never bothered me anyway." I fell in love easily with Florida. My grandparents were just an hour north of her in Port St. Lucie too and I was just in awe of all things Florida.

I loved the palm trees, the big changing signs along I-95, the malls, and it was bright and sunny so that you could go to the beach or the pool year round. I loved the big houses almost as I loved the little key west style one-floor ranchers and loved that it was WARM!

When I was vying for having a mother figure back and my dad was itching for distance, he said he was going to go back to Oregon when I was 16 and I had zero interest in following. I wanted to live with my mom in Delray. So, I finished my sophomore year of high school living with my Aunt in Pennsylvania and then was shipped to Delray Beach.

I landed in Ft. Lauderdale, and did my junior year in Delray Beach and literally lasted a year to the day, before my dad packed up all my stuff and dragged me across the country with him to Oregon to finish high school and then go to college. My mom and I were not fit to share a roof. Unfortunately this still stands and has been recently proven. 

After moving to two high schools in 2 years, moving didn't bother me. I could be a nomad, whatever. In fact for the next 7 years, I moved once a year. My dad rented a place on Hilyard in South Eugene for High School. After that we moved to West Eugene to an apartment for my first year at community College. Then I was on 11th with my first roommate, then I lived by myself on High Street, then to Bailey Hill in a little townhouse with a roommate, moved in the same complex but a one bedroom with my then boyfriend, now husband, and then with my Aunt back in South Eugene, whilst I planned my graduation and Oregon escape.

My sights were originally set on San Francisco, or New York. I always dreamed that being poor in a big city was more romantic than being rich in the suburbs. But, after another bad situation with my mom derailed me, and I had a year of pretty intense depression and anxiety, I gave into the idea that maybe I was the type that could settle down and have a family, and my adolescent Carrie Bradshaw dreams were just the stuff of immaturity.

My husband had never really lived anywhere. Just Oregon; Medford and then Eugene. When he met me, we visited Pennsylvania often, he saw the Jersey Shore and even Delray Beach, Florida. When I mentioned possibly leaving for a new place, he was all in. But then I was like, well if we're moving 3,000 miles together, if we were to get married we'd do that before we left right? Because I'd never be that person to get married on a beach. 

So, in the midst of planning a cross country trek and new life, we snuck in a wedding that turned into an epic send off and I was ready. I had studied for about 4 months in Europe in 2007 and it was just the best time ever. I LOVED to travel. It didn't  matter if it involved road trips or flying anywhere new, I was in. My husband was just kind of starting to embrace new horizons. Moreover for me, I wanted a place that was just ours.

My mom almost successfully ruined our relocation, but I refused to let her take away one more thing from my life. Originally I wanted to go back to Delray, but my husband had an Aunt in Tampa and I had had cousins move from Pennsylvania to St. Petersburg, Florida about 2 or so years prior. We visited once and very much liked it so we just changed the location a bit.

I was so ready for a clean slate, a warm new place that didn't even know anything about us. In Oregon, everyone knew my husband and I as this entity of "us," which was great and fine, but I just wanted our own real place.  I also didn't want to get stuck doing everything that everyone around us in Oregon was doing, but rather to find my own way.

Finding my footing was tough at first, but after about 2 job changes I found a place to thrive. After I left Pennsylvania "home" became a fluid concept anyway. It wasn't a place but more, a feeling of comfort in who I was with. My husband was home. The apartment didn't matter, only that we were in it together. 

For career reasons, I knew that Oregon couldn't support what I wanted to do for writing. I was in for a rude awakening that nowhere really could, especially in my married life, and also that our lives couldn't support endless internships or relocation for such things. Therefore, I just found my way with jobs to pay the bills.

In truth, with a broken heart from family life, and a guy next to me saying he wanted to go with and love me, why stay put? I wasn't immediately ready to settle down and have a family, but I liked knowing I didn't have to be alone. I wanted to just live a bit. 

Maybe my husband's reasons are completely different and I won't speculate but for me, the "who" was my husband and I, the "what" was, "moved to Florida," or as my sister said, "You can't move any further away." The "when" ended up being June-July of 2009 because we took our time getting down here. The "where" changed from Delray to Tampa Bay and the never ending "Why," would be best answered as, because we deserved a chance to have something that was our own.

Of course a decade later with a dog and a child, and even a house purchase in, boy did nothing go as I'd imagined. Expectations have been shattered and things have been harder than I could have ever thought, but I don't regret leaving. I asked my husband the same thing last year and he agreed.

Don't get me wrong, I love Oregon. I miss it. But I cannot handle the cold. The cold makes me so very physically uncomfortable and depressive. I'm much better here in the Sunshine State.

The why is complicated, I'll admit. I also think as I get older and one can only hope, wiser, it may become more succinct but I just wanted something that was completely and utterly ours. In Oregon I would have had babies immediately with everyone else, got a job I hated for no pay and struggled through the seasons to find what I was even looking for, and I didn't feel like that was where I should be. Luckily, I had a co-pilot who wanted to come with. 

Ironically now I have zero desire to leave Safety Harbor. My daughter jokes about having a different house and I'm like, "Uh, no, this is the forever house." I've had what I've built threatened to disintegrate often, and this is the first time I'm not like, "Sure we'll just move along elsewhere," but rather I'm like, "I refuse to give up what I've worked hard for."

It took me 8 years to land a job that even kind of used my degree, not to mention a job that actually was friendly to my anxiety and personal struggles. It took me 8 years to find a place I would want to stay and right now I'm having to rebuild some massive personal destruction and I won't let anyone tell me I shouldn't be spending my time to be a better mom and human. When I had my daughter there were a few times when I wished family was closer, but even when we go visit, I'm constantly reminded at how hard it is there for us, or at least for me.

Florida may not be forever but at least I can see the first hints of calm. I love this "colorful, lawless swamp" that I call home and why even? Because it is my home. And home is where the heart is right? I think we can end on that cliche for a Monday!

My Little Pony, So I Guess This Is My Life Now

It's on in the living room right now. My daughter is legitimately obsessed with My Little Pony. My Little Pony has come a very long way since the 80's, I will say this, and we also made it this far into parenthood without the obsessions and crazes coming in full blast, so that's a win also.

She went through a bit of a Doc McStuffins phase, but this My Little Pony thing is a full blown love affair. As far as what is available and interesting to children her age, My Little Pony is pretty palatable. It's not too obnoxious or bratty and even the merchandising isn't as intensive as say, Disney-related things.

Now, I've made clear before that I don't judge the kid stuff. I literally bought into the Beanie Baby craze, I loved Polly Pocket, Littlest Pet Shop and of all fads, POGS. So I have no room to judge. I'm unsure if I will ever truly understand what a Shopkin is or what the point of Shopkins is but she's happy, I'm happy.

The Pony stuff, took over the 6th birthday in terms of theme, presents and every other aspect of her little realm. She watches it as often as we allow. We have Pony games on the tablet, she got Pony Chapter books and joke books, she has My Little Pony dolls, clothes, toothbrushes, crafts, stuffed animals, and music. 

The world of My Little Pony is layered and extremely real for any fan. It's got different kinds of Ponies, like Alicorn, Unicorn, Earth-Pony. It has different lands and realms, character conflicts, plot lines, the works. 

My husband actually turned me onto Patton Oswald's stand up about his daughter's obsession with My Little Pony and it is hilariously true how sucked in you can get as parents, whether you intend to or not. I definitely enjoy and appreciate the friendship themes.

The best thing is my daughter gets so excited about all the characters and what's happening, when and why. She loves telling us about every little phase, line and moment. She loves to share the world of Pony with anyone who will listen and she's extremely educated about it.

My life is now all Pony all the time. She's already vying for My Little Pony underwear. I foresee a My Little Pony Easter basket. I literally just heard her say "Rarity is just being a drama queen." It's too funny. 

I consider my daughter's obsession with My Little Pony to be the same as my obsession with say, The Office or Parks and Rec. So I let her watch on. If My Little Pony is her safe little realm of fun, I'm so supportive of her having that. 

So for now, I'll soak up every moment of her loving Ponyville, Equestria, Manehattan and so on and so forth. My favorite is Apple Jack, personally but my daughter is fond of Rainbow Dash. Yep, this is my life now. It's kind of awesome, right?

First Friends Are The Best Friends

I had just messaged my friend, the one who has known me the longest, since I was just 6 years old, and asked him if I could write a blog about us, and the next day at Publix I come across this cover on Life Magazine. And let me tell you, it could have been us.

I think of this tale as beyond epic so here we go. When I was in Kindergarten I went to some private prep school and met my best friend/ "first boyfriend," also known as Bradley. He was an older one, all of 7 and had red hair just like me. He once told me that when he was in like first grade, next to my picture he wrote that he would marry me some day but then scratched it out in older years. The universe had different plans anyway.

We may have made it a year or two together as inseparable. We had beach trips, sleep overs, camp outs, and endless play dates. We did lots of hand holding and kissing on the cheek, if memory serves. We watched E.T. together and I gave him my E.T. stuffed animal as a gift to my new "boyfriend." I should have dug out pictures of us from when we were beyond adorable.

When his family moved on from having him attend that school and living in that that area, my mom didn't stay in touch. We kind of just faded with nothing but pictures and memories of our childhood adventures. I didn't know if we'd ever speak again, let alone what would happen 17 years later.

See, this was back in the day before Facebook, MySpace, and Google took over so you could find ANYONE. All you had was old mailing addresses or a phone book to track people down. I can't tell you how many times he crossed my mind but I never would have thought he'd remember me.

In about 2002ish, Bradley had tracked down my dad's phone number in Oregon but admitted he was too afraid and intimidated to call. Knowing my dad he would have been rude at first and then relieved it wasn't some 20 year old boyfriend looking for me, and instead an old friend.

In 2009, when my husband and I joined Facebook, in the MOST unlikely of ways, Bradley found me, and this happened as soon as we moved to Florida. Bradley had been searching for me under my maiden name, my dad's last name, and tracked down my niece on Facebook, because on Facebook I've always had hubby's name. My maiden name, Lodjic, was pretty darn rare. He messaged her asking if she knew of me at all and she responded saying, "That's my aunt, she just got married, here is her Facebook name."

And that was it, the boy who knew me the longest and had been looking for me, finally found me when I was just 24 years old, after not speaking since we were maybe, 7 and 8? It was completely astounding.

Bradley was kicking ass in the Airforce when we reconnected. We spoke via the magic of the internet A LOT. We did IM and Facebook, I called him as much as I could. We emailed. We stayed up hours talking about everything. He remembered my family before everything turned sour and he remembered things my trauma had blocked out. I knew him before his personal family stuff and there was a sense of home and familiarity that never left us.

My husband never seemed to be phased by the interaction but perhaps because there has always been an ocean between us. Bradley asked me all about my husband and what I was up to. He read all my poems and blogs. He told me all about his then ex-girlfriend, now wife, and how he knew she was the one. We left no stone unturned in conversation. We picked up immediately as best friends, like we'd never missed a day, let alone close to two decades. It was weird, but completely natural and normal all at the same time.

Ten years ago Bradley Facebooked his way back into my life, and I can honestly say, I couldn't have gotten through that decade without him. There is not a doubt in my mind that he found me because he was meant to be a true friend, a comfort and support that I needed. He is someone from my roots, to keep me rooted. Now, let me elaborate.

Bradley has heard me complain and cry about everything. He calls me out when I'm being unfair in my perspective with my personal relationships and totally has my back when it comes to parenthood and all the ways of me being all that is Alison. When he married his gorgeous wife, I thought he might fade away because you know, life, but we check in often and they happen have a beautiful daughter a year older than Luna. She and Luna are the same age difference as Bradley and I. I desperately want them to meet someday!

Okay back to some history. When I told Bradley why I disappeared from life and reconnecting and he told me about everything he'd gone through, there was no judgement, from either of us. It was the same little boy that held my hand when I got freaked out watching E.T. He was just an amazing friend. And still is.

In March of 2016 for an Airforce training something or other Bradley traveled to Melbourne, Florida. This is only 3 hours away from us. He wanted to meet us all. We hadn't seen each other in 25 years! And we were planning on reconnecting finally. 

My husband had to work so I packed up Luna and we went to Melbourne. We decided to hit the zoo. As a father missing his daughter, he immediately befriended Luna and what was both so strange and perfect, was how watching him with her made me remember more of our childhood together. He was silly and hilarious and all about her. He even got her to try her first snow cone. It was the perfect day, like in Tangled, "Best DAY EVER!"

I know that men and women aren't supposed to be friends. There will be people waiting for me to declare some kind of romantic love but it's the opposite. He's like my brother. He has talked me through some of my darkest moments. He has asked me to help him with some of his perspectives on parenting, marriage and life in general, and of course I harass him for the same. 

We've gone weeks without chatting much but we always check in and keep tabs on one another. When we got in the car accident he was living in Hawaii. When he saw the stuff on Facebook he messaged me in concern. I had just settled down at 11PM at night after an 8:30AM accident and worst day ever, and I just couldn't sleep. My husband was in a separate hospital and all I could do was lay my bloodied head down and try not to cry. 

I remember when he messaged me just mentally collapsing and Bradley calming me down over Facebook messenger because I told him I couldn't rest and was cold, and shaking, upset. I was sore, bruised, and uncomfortable while watching Luna sleep. He told me I was in shock and probably had some intense PTSD. He said that I should be in shock and needed to be gentle on myself. From thousands upon thousands of miles away, he calmed me down enough to get some rest.

These are the seemingly simple moments that confirm he's meant to be like an older brother to protect me from afar. I know this because when I've told him my worst attributes, my most regrettable acts, and all the bad with the good, he's never been mad at me or told me to go away. He's also kept me strong and fighting, never letting me give up on myself or my life.

Don't get me wrong, I have women friends who are my life blood, but there's something about the story of Bradley and I that is just too...stupendous to act like it doesn't bear meaning and purpose. He did give me permission to wax on about this and make this a big deal because...I mean look at that history. Nothing short of epic.

And maybe we won't be around each other in the way that we are now, forever, but I like to think that Luna and his daughter will meet and create the same kind of bond that will outlast our lifetimes. His daughter even inherited E.T! I'll have to report back on that chapter though. I better message him that I actually published this thing though...

I Am A Serial Plant Killer

I just finished devouring all of The Ted Bundy Tapes on Netflix and while, as an American, I'm naturally intrigued by serial killers and love crime drama type things, it has brought to light my own issues, which include my penchant for killing plants. I am a serial killer...of plants.

This isn't a malicious thing. I don't hunt and attack the plants. But if you give me a plant to water and care for, I will kill it. I mean, come and look at my yard. I'm the complete opposite of any kind of green thumb at all. I'm the black thumb...black death.

My problem is, I don't really care about plants, and again it's not like I want to purposefully hurt them, they just aren't on my radar. I keep my dog and my kid alive and healthy. The same just cannot be said for plants.

I haven't been given many plants, but I inevitably kill them all. I have at least a dozen that have met their demise under my care. I do okay with a bouquet of flowers but those are eventually supposed to die so I feel no remorse there. In the past few years though, I have received too many plants that have not survived me.

After the car accident people gave us a few "Our thoughts are with you" types of plants. These were simple grocery store or Lowe's garden section plants. Nothing impressive really, but they barely lasted a week. I forget to water. Or I over-water, or they get no air or sunlight. They are neglected. Even outdoor plants get neglected. Why water them? Ever heard of rain?

It was about a year and a half ago when we had a house warming that a church friend gave me a "mother-in-law" or snake plant type thing and said, "Don't worry, this thing is actually hard to kill." This one lasted the longest of any plant that I have received but I did, eventually, kill it. I think it was able to live with me about 7 months. Never would I claim that this plant thrived.

I even consciously wanted to keep that damned plant alive with no luck! The plants hate me, we just do not get along.

And now for my daughter's birthday my cousin got her something super cool, interactive and thoughtful...succulents. I think we may have already lost one or two. I've replanted with proper soil and am watering, sunning and trying, but I have made no promises to these plants. I fear the worst.

I watch other people who love plants and I'm in awe. I feel like I lack that capacity to adore and care for plant life. I can match outfits, arrange, organize, file, clean, type, write, even sew, but things involving plants are just not my forte. If it were up to me, we wouldn't even have a yard, just a huge screened enclosure with firepit, grill, and hot tub. Not kidding.

I love nature. I was raised in nature and with a deep respect for nature and it seems I may be one of the only people in my entire family who has no interest in caring for plant life and keeping it happy and alive. I have seriously and serially killed all plants that have come into contact with me. I may not be Bundy-style deranged and psychopathic but these poor plants have never even seen it coming!

Perhaps I'm too focused on my own personal growth!

I Heart Routines

Vacations, weekends away, visitors coming and going, adventures and such are super duper fun. They are the best; wonderful exhaustion. But I am a person in love with my routines. 

My dad came to stay with us for two weeks which was awesome, because we had a lot of help with stuff around the house, but sharing your space is tough, no matter who you are. And I certainly know he was ready to go home by the time he left.

Disrupted routines are difficult for me, even though I'm so "resilient" because I'm such a creature of habit. This isn't to just admit that I'm uptight and unwavering, also attributes I have, but just saying that "going with the flow" only takes me so far. At the end of it all, I just hit a wall where I wanted to not be afraid to walk around my house in just underwear if I was rushing, not have to feel the need to "engage" and "entertain" and eat popcorn in my bead while watching too much Netflix.

There were also really silly things I couldn't indulge in, like face masks and hair tweezing, when you have company. Those are like, before bed things, not things to do when you have guests. 

I always forget how much children need their routines too. My daughter was just all over the place. Every morning my daughter rushed to check on grandpa, have breakfast with grandpa, talk to grandpa. And the evenings were about time with grandpa too. She had so much fun bonding with him, but needed her run of the mill routines to keep her grounded. This all happened around her birthday, too. What a whirlwind.

For me, it always amazes me how I can share my space well with "my people" but with others, everything irritates me. Like I have some secret space for endless patience and understanding with anyone related to me, like immediate family, but anyone else pushes me over the edge. 

My visit with my dad was good and productive. He hadn't been to see the "new" house and I think he taught hubby a few things about using what you have around the house to make what you need, and making it "look pretty" can come after. It's function and frugality over what looks best, especially on a budget. 

It was most important to me that she have some adolescent time with her grandpa. I feel like she's finally old enough to do more stuff. She's interactive, she's fun, she's smart, super aware and hilarious. Even with the six year old maintenance, she's mostly a precious joy...mostly. 

Luna, much like her mother, needs a picture of her day, she needs to stick to the same routine and plan, and deviating from it can be difficult. Some leniency with this can come with age, but for now she needs her schedule. 

Currently she just had a major meltdown and hit a wall. She is decompressing in the tub and we had to rearrange activities. I was the one easiest to say, "Go with the flow," for this change of plans and the little one brought out all the "hurting my feelings" and "breaking my heart" lines to sway us differently.

Sometimes you have to give up, stay home and reboot to be able to kick off the great routines again. This goes along with saying no to certain things and saying yes to others; to being a little anti-social and a little more self-care conscious. 

Routines are my favorite and I love them dearly. I hold them close in the chaos. I open up the forum to hear about yours, what works for you, and what rocks the boat a bit too much. Because I will forever heart my routines. 

Valentine's Day In Motherhood

Valentine's day used to be one of those holidays girls wrapped all their hopes and dreams into. I for one much prefer Galentine's Day lately. But here's why today rocked. There were no super surprises. No flowers, diamonds or over the top luxuries. But today was my daughter's Kindergarten Grandparent's/Valentine's Day show. And it was amazing.

My husband and I did the normal card exchange but because of the afternoon show, and it being my dad's last day in town, we snuck a lunch with my dad in tow, before the big production. Then off to the show we went!

My daughter had been threatening to not sing. Boy did she mean business! She paid close attention. She focused on her teachers and the commands. She knew every hand gesture and pantomime. She did not sing. Stone-faced she stood there. And occasionally smiled and waved at us. She had this adorable and ridiculous embarrassed grin. I loved it.

In other news for today I was able to leave work early and now have my dad doing finishing touches in my daughter's room for her many requests and I'm relaxing in the quiet before the rest of the day unfolds. I'm still full from lunch.

Today I got to be a real, live Valentine's day mom. I got Luna the card. Hubby got her the chocolates. I was at the school event with the other grandparents and parents, on time and ready to watch it. I smiled and waved and sang all the words. I blew kisses and laughed and loved watching her in action. I didn't even cry!

Valentine's Day used to be a huge thing for hubby and I, but since he's been a chef, he always works tonight. They are fully booked with reservations the next 3 nights. I for one am happy going to bed early with my little love happy in a chocolate coma in the next room and ready to send my dad back to Oregon with a great trip in the books.

But as a mom, I always feel like I'm lacking. Maybe all moms feel that in one way or another but I always feel bad being that working mom. I don't take time off for every little thing so that when days like today come along I can be there and pay attention.

I saw all the adorable Facebook posts of love. I've seen all the Instagram posts of love as well. And it was funny because where I used to make sure to loathe all of it and feel so very inferior and less than, this year I'm generally happy for everyone who is making the most out of this holiday. I even saw a "Friendaversary" of today on Facebook with a guy and his girlfriend of about one year. YAY! How cute is that?

And I know that for some single people today blows. It can feel super triggery and overwhelming, but let me just say, us married people don't have it all together either. Essentially it's just another day. But, if you can find some love and some big red hearts out there for today, Valentine's day can be less "Bleh," which I know some of you have felt.

For me it wasn't romantic love at all, but motherhood and being a part of something seemingly mundane and boring that meant everything. Perhaps you can find something like that too. Happy Valentine's Day readers!!

Wrangling The Kiddos, Wild And Free

I have one mom friend that lives 5 minutes away and we often plan major adventures for the two 6 year old children and the one 3 year old, not to mention for ourselves. We do parks, beach, downtown festivals in the harbor and random in home play dates. We let our children be insane together to save our sanity as mothers.

With my dad in tow, yesterday we went down to the Safety Harbor Shabby Chic festival to keep our children from touching everything but to get ice cream type treats. We made two stops for sugar and then let the children run wild down at the marina. I think we ended up walking almost 2 miles with three children.

The entire walk consists of my friend and I yelling a mix of: "Don't touch that. Get that out of your mouth! Keep your pants on! Pull your pants up! Shirt down! No one wants to see that! No, we're not buying that. Leave that dog alone. Come on! Let's go! Watch where you are going! Keep walking!" We occasionally stop to laugh that we have to say such weird things and that our kids have almost no boundaries, especially when we are all together.

I looked at my dad at one point and said, "They're exhausting, right?" He said, "YES! Very much!" He admitted to me he's not sure he could parent today and he feels like things were simpler for my sisters and for me. Ironic because I'm not sure I could have parented back then!

With three kiddos out and about, my friend and I are always exhausted because it's a big, planned event of play, feeding them or snacking with them, and then breaking them free from each other which usually involves tantrums. They fight when they are together and complain when they are apart. It's funny and such a task all at once.

My daughter and my friend's son met in the park just before they were two and they very much have a love-hate relationship. When her daughter was born, Luna didn't quite get the point until she was old enough for her to boss her around. Now they are the three little amigos and do mostly well together.

They are more and more independent and need less hands on attention or interference but are exhausting still. Most of the things we plan also include and opportunity for the moms to kick back, enjoy and have fun also. We definitely try and do things to allow them to just run free and get covered in dirt and sweat. 

This is four years in of figuring them all out and I think us moms have realized our strengths and weaknesses with our own children and in turn, with each others. Three hours of crazy is well worth a chill evening in our humble opinions and we tend to do very well with maintaining each other's boundaries and balancing one another out.

I think my dad kind of just liked to watch it all happen. I mean who wouldn't? It's hilarious watching us chase and yell and repeat and repeat and repeat!

When it comes to days like those I always feel grateful when I finally hit the couch and stop moving. Luna usually retreats to some quiet Netflix time and maybe I do too. And then I sit and reflect on the fun. We have all had some epic trips.

We've done Disney, we've driven to new play places and nature parks and farms and zoos and aquariums. We've found new parks with new play structures. We've gone out for great lunches and had amazing treats to share. We play hard! And I love knowing that they will have these memories with each other of their epic childhood tales. 

Sure, there are tantrums and time outs and we yell and scream and cry. That goes for us moms too. But we support each other and help tackle this whole parenthood deal. It DOES take a village! And on a rainy day we can just go a mile down the road and trade who hosts the toy wreckage. It's awesome and what I wanted most for where we lived and for my daughter's childhood.

Wrangling the kiddos as they run wild and free can be daunting, annoying and exhausting, but it sure keeps things interesting. I wouldn't trade it for anything and I plan on using each story as blackmail for all three of these kids in their teenage years. Plus, we have a lot on video!

Checking In And Ghosting - Modern Technological Hurdles

Recently I had a good friend of mine thank me for checking in and checking up on her. I never have the resources to send Edible Arrangements, flowers, or just buy groceries and make casseroles but one thing I can do? Check in.

It's not always or even necessary to have a long conversation but more a way to say "Hey, I'm thinking about you and I'm a text away." In this busy and fast paced world, those little texts can get you through a whirlwind of negativity.

This is one hurdle I've managed to jump over a few times. I have a good friend I've had to discuss this delicately with and I gotta tell you those texts that say "Hey I've been really busy but I just wanted to say hi and wish you a good weekend," keep me smiling during the days when we're not able to catch up.

But I think we get so frustrating because of this whole new "ghosting" thing. To my understanding ghosting is when someone completely drops out of or disappears from contact with you, no explanation but possibly still exists actively on social media. Sometimes I miss the days where if someone didn't call you back, there weren't 8000 avenues to keep tabs on them and you could easily shrug off with a "They must be busy or out." Today our anxious, overthinking minds tend to assume the worst.

To me, the ghosting thing feels hurtful because, I'd rather you tell me in any way shape or form, "I'm not wanting to deal with you right now, but when I can find room for you, I will reach out." Always just say "Hey, I'm busy not ignoring you or not avoiding you." There are too many Pinterest memes to rile us up when we are feeling inferior or "not essential" to the business in friends, family and significant others' lives like "No response is still a response," and "If they want to talk to you, the will make time for you, not excuses," and so on and so forth.

For me, when I "fall off the grid," I don't see text messages because I was messing around on my phone doing something else and then forgot someone text me. Or I'm wanting to answer something and the kid or dog or husband interrupts and 10 hours later I realize I never responded. But I never mean to just stop all contact with people. No matter how small the "check in" is, I make an effort to do so.

I do this, because I would want the same from my friends. These are hard times people. With all the communication and technological advances, we still lose friends and grow apart. The people you used to text every day become an Instagram story or a Facebook update. The people you once planned entire weekend plans with are now posting adventures you could never go with them on, and are living their "best life" with you as a spectator.

Now I wrote recently about being called out as a hater on these types of things but I'll tell you what it is: I was hurt. Often we invest so much time and energy into these relationships of any kind, and when they fizzle, we feel that loss. And it's weird to be grieving someone still alive.

We live in a world where because we're "Facebook Friends" and "Instagram Followers" we "stay in touch." My husband always gives me a hard time about being "a texter." But I like to reach out with a text! You have no idea how many times I text people "Sorry I suck at communication but I love you! Hope you're well," or "Tell me how you are!"

I think I've been successfully ghosted once for about 9 months until the return of "the entity" and once I was "ghosted" or put off for about 2 weeks and then I confronted the issue and we made a peace treaty haha.

I often want to recoil from communication, social media and any kind of social gathering when I'm at my worst with life things. I have a pretty strong guard up when it comes to sharing because you never know how people will receive it and too often I've felt like I finally unloaded my dump truck of life and emotions to only feel that yucky "judgment" feeling from others, or be told how to "better" live my life. It's a hard line to walk.

I check in because I am there for my friends. My family life can often feel wobbly so I have heavily relied on my friends to be my compass. And I put everything into my friendships that I possibly can. And on that note, when you don't hear from me, it has nothing to do with lack of love or lack of desire to have you in my life. It's the opposite for me, if I'm quiet, I just don't know how to handle what's happening to me personally, am unsure how to tell you about it, and afraid that I can't support your friendship well enough, so I fear to let you down. Yes, that is my thought process!

I hope with all the technology, one day we get better with the way we communicate. There is so much heartbreak and anxious, depressive misery with text interpretation or unanswered questions and feelings. Perhaps that's why the "Good morning," "Good night," and "Have a good day," or "I'll be thinking of you," texts just make things so much better and nicer.

So check in this weekend, no not on Facebook, just with each other. Send a silly meme. Text a nice sentence of support. Check in and don't be a ghost. We can haunt people later. Enjoy the weekend readers and thanks again for your feedback!

One Month In And Tonight I Barely Made It

I'm a month into my year of posting successfully! I'm pretty proud of myself right now, if I may say so. And tonight I really just want to go to bed, but we had a big epic day. So I shall recap for my readers.

This morning was super Saturday filled with Birthday fun. My dad is in town, Luna had horseback riding lessons, her birthday party and a birthday dinner with our closest family. We did it!

Horseback riding was amazing. She did so well, like, you can see all my money going to a fantastic place. She listened so well and earned a cupcake!

She had some down time after with a real lunch and then I did some errands and picked up the my little pony cake. She put on her fancy dress and let down her hair and we were off.

The birthday party was at the bowling alley. Nine children bowling was the most hilarious thing ever. What gorgeous chaos. So wonderful to watch and take in. After pizza and cake we hit the arcade. Then we gave out party favors and came home. 

We brought a little friend home with her to play. This was my best idea ever because she immediately had fun that didn't involve us getting ready for company. It was time to get ready to host dinner. And my husband was making my favorite: tacos.

Whenever we have company he cooks for like 100, never for the number we will actually have. We also are never on time. Whenever I tell someone to come over, I think we'll eat within 30 minutes of arrival. It's almost always over an hour. 

We ate tacos, more cake and we visited with what we consider our Florida family. After this day I feel exhausted and blessed. We had all of our favorite kiddos with their parents there to celebrate the big 6. We had family over to visit and celebrate this growing child of mine.

Now it's crawling towards 10PM and I just want to crawl into my bed. So thank you all for a first wonderful month of my journey. Tomorrow I will have the capacity to enjoy more writing, probably during the Superbowl and after cake and wine, this tired mama will be heading to bed soon. Until tomorrow readers! 

Bills, Budget, Money, Oh My!

My mom asked if I was technically a millennial last night. I told her technically I may be an #eldermillennial. When I was young, even when things were at their worst, I never worried that we wouldn't have a roof over our heads or food on the table. I never saw my dad use credit cards, really and when divorce things happened in any part of my family I don't ever recall any complaints about money involved. Perhaps it was all on the down low.

Money stuff is hard. Let's just be real and admit that paying bills sucks as does adulting but financial stuff is hard. During one of my darkest years recently I had seen old friends doing well. They had new houses, new cars, golf carts, and great dates all posted on social media. I felt like I was always struggling and kept getting shut out of having even a chance to have those things. I was once confronted by someone as being "A hater" because I just said, "They have everything including what must be some serious credit card debt, which I could never do."

It was funny to me how that made me a "hater." I learned the hard way, really fast, and then even worse and slower like when you're afraid to remove a band-aid, just how bad all things related to credit and debt could be. And worse, I had nothing to show for it. I wasn't a shop-aholic. I had no new vehicles, we couldn't get a house loan, nothing. No memorable vacations or anything. It was all just...something for another post, or maybe my book.

Back to the point of the debt. My dad taught me how to use credit cards, and I know not everyone is so lucky. For me, real debt, more than something that can be easily caught up on in a month or two, makes me stressed, anxious and very defeated. It's often a point of contention.

I was raised not to discuss money things with other people and from that has come a lot of misunderstanding a grief. I should have asked for help in terms of advice and how to do things the most efficient ways. I've had to change my methods over and over. And this is what I know:

You'll always have "some" debt. It's inevitable. It's all about the debt to net worth ratio. My uncle once said this to me in jest, but when we were buying the house, it all became clear, if your debt outweighs what you can predictably bring in...you're doomed. I do everything in my power to "live within my means."

I'm a saver. And my husband is a spender. Sigh...imagine the controversy there. It has not been easy. I'm that person that the day the bill arrives: PAID, POOF, MONEY GONE! I want things taken care of immediately. No past due balances or skipped payments for me. I believe that after the bills are paid you can go out to play. You don't go out to eat when you have an electric bill you'll barely pay in full.

After adulting and doing all the math over and over and over. And obsessing over and over and over about everything, I'm pretty close to keeping us at break even and this is a big deal in my world. I do get upset from time to time when I have to scale back. I recently had to get rid of my gym membership which stinks, but I do enjoy having dental insurance. 

Financial struggles and life struggles are hard to share and I think I still keep stuff pretty private. A lot of my association with failure is aligned with money. Like clearly you're successful if you have all the things right? Not really.

I spent the last year just so done with all these unfair ideologies I pushed on myself for so long. I started to really focus on how to handle the disappointments and hurdles and just ask myself "What can be possibly done now? What can you hope to accomplish in the future?" I've really had to retool so much of my thinking and I feel better for it honestly.

I will tell you one funny misstep though: I had reached out for a financial mentor and it was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever encountered. After we moved our money into retirement funds and savings accounts and started really breaking down what we earn and where it goes, I just thought "We have to stop living paycheck to paycheck."

When I called and started breaking things down, not only did I feel stupid because I only had ballpark numbers of certain things, but I was made to feel pretty stupid too. Little things like opening our retirement accounts and "you couldn't have put that much in because XYZ..." Well we did, however it happened with our financial investor they did it. The next advice was to close all but one credit card, and we only had two. And the 2nd one I'd had since I was 18. Same account, which means I have a great history with them and I just thought..."that seems like really bad advice!"

The last advice, which was good but too much for me was "Write down exactly what you spend on every single thing and keep every receipt." This is where I get ridiculous. I have a serious hatred for receipts. I wish EVERYTHING was an e-receipt and we stopped using that horrible paper with that ink. I can be wasteful about stupid stuff but I HATE RECEIPTS. And I never keep them unless I MIGHT need to return something. Also, every purchase? Ever heard of internet banking? Aside from what exact groceries you buy, it's all there, on a credit OR debit card.

After the conversation I just felt kind of annoyed. I had taken control in financial chaos and busted my butt to get us on track and now I was to do more? And here's the thing, the steps we took were just so huge, that I wanted to enjoy the success, not add on more work. Also? We had just enough to get by. This didn't account for, large car repairs, raises in insurance, a raise in pay or other things. There's so damned much unknown. You literally cannot plan for everything. So why make myself crazy?

And that's when I gave myself a nice pep talk: "Look, you can do what you can and remind yourself that your family will never let you go without anything necessary in life if things get really bad, and stay tenacious, and not sweat the small stuff, or you can try all these things, sacrifice some more sanity and have it probably not work for you in a functional way. What will make you happy?"

I figured out my own way. That's what made me happy. Finding my own way to integrate the advice, and everything else to keep us on the correct path. I finally saw everything from all angles and I just wanted to keep up the good fight without messing with the delicate balance of what I'd begun.

I'm more grateful now I feel. I'm more, in tune with where I want to be and where I am. I still throw a tantrum if I have to be responsible and miss a concert or can't go buy new bras just because there's a sale. But I've seen a lot of great concerts. And there's always another sale and my current bras still function. There are also so many less fortunate and I really would like to be able to give back to them in a real way. I think that's a much better goal than new furniture.

These are all growing pains and I'm always open to ideas and advice. And most people have financial issues in some way or another. The American way feels like we're spending what we haven't made but I'd like to be the cheese that stands alone on that one. Much like everything else in life it's one day at a time. And it's a constant check and balance on we can do extra and what we can't.

But the bills, budgeting and money...sigh, oh my. They will always be a part of life. Find what works for you! 

Last Day Of Five - All The Feels

Tomorrow is my daughter's 6th Birthday, thus making today the last day of her being 5. This whole age five thing has been an interesting ride, I will say.

She is fierce and strong-willed, which is a love-hate thing. Some days I am just in awe of her. Others, I get so mad that she's exactly like me.

The other day we had a face-off that was one for the books. I said, "Now go brush your teeth and go pee before we leave please." Her response, "Um, yeah I'm not going to do that unless I can watch Doc McStuffins on your phone in the car for the drive." I saw red. WHAT!?

This kid could be a negotiator one day. She seems to have a plan of attack and well thought out reasoning for everything. I think my favorite part of 5 was watching her become such a little person though. During some very dark and trying times she would actually reach out to comfort me and when she got frustrated with me, she'd call me out, which was both amazing and infuriating all at once. 

She grew into her own and has more independence. It's amazing. Dressing herself (it never matches but I could care less, it's just adorable), bathing herself, feeding the dog, walking him a bit more, putting things away on her own. She thrives.

She's learned to read and compare words and have real discussions with me, more than "She was mean to me today and I'm never talking to her again," or "He called me this or that name!"

She was the most fun for Christmas ever. Totally into it and so engaged for the entire thing. It made the holiday so exciting and fun.

She has manners and knows how to hold her own in social situations. I've loved seeing her independence evolve. I still have those moments where the memories of her as a baby come up on Facebook and my heart hurts but I love this stage more I feel.

I wasn't the biggest fan of infancy honestly and once we got to 4 and 5 I knew how to do things with her instead of feeling like we had to be more carefully involved in certain things. We can go have adventures now!

I'm not that mom that gets teary-eyed often about her growing but I try and let her know I see and appreciate her doing new things and being more "Luna" than before. She's such a trip and of all the things I've done, she's by far my best achievement and reason for life, without a doubt.

So we're entering the next age tomorrow and I'm so ready, or as ready as I can be. I'm thinking this year we do an epic road trip and she starts being my date to some weddings. I think we'll try some better beach days, new parks, maybe some pottery painting and craft classes. We are going to enjoy all of 6.

I'm still not ready for crazy sports schedules, sleepovers and too much time away but I'm ready for this next walk of life with her holding my hand because it's not going to fit in mine the same next year. Let's do this!

Play Dates: A Mom's Best Friend

My daughter and a neighborhood friend are currently in a fort play-dating it up and this is amazing because I'm able to write, or watch a movie, fold laundry and breathe. Play dates, in my humble opinion, can be a mother's best friend.

Play dates with kids under one, are more for the mothers to just interact and we kind of just watch the little ones roll around and steal each other's toys. Once kids hit about 3, you relish the time when another little friend helps them expel some energy and entertains them. Now at almost-6, you just need a body in the house and less of the planned activities. They entertain each other effortlessly now.

You may have to referee a few fights or disagreements but other than that, it's a dream. Now, don't get me wrong, I interact with my little one all the time. We do crafts and go see movies and do all the things, but lately I've been so tired by the time I hit Sunday, I like to instill some chill time. For me, TV and movies have always been my comfortable zone out and relax mechanisms. Now, I've watched all the Disney movies about a thousand times, so I usually retreat to my bedroom and binge on Friends, the Office or Parks and Rec, and generally it's something that Luna can watch without picking up on any inappropriate jokes.

I'm always a room away and I make sure she has all snack needs met, but I like for her to have some independence. Plus, it lets her watch what she wants, like My Little Pony or Daniel Tiger. She tells me all of the details of the shows anyway, so it's like I'm watching them and she gets her own "me time."

When we have play dates, I make these technology free times. You have someone to interact with, you don't need a tablet or TV. Occasionally they indulge in a movie but mostly it's all about play. I like to set up painting time or chalk adventures or games but I definitely encourage them to use their imaginations and come up with things on their own.

As an only child I was fiercely independent and I've tried to raise Luna the same way. She can get along in the company of grown ups as well as she can with kids of all ages. And I'm super proud of her for being that way, because when she needs to take a few minutes away from being social, she can come sit by me and just be her wonderful self for a moment.

I have had circumstances where I've watched her have a rough time with kids who weren't so very nice to her and it's hard to not get overly "Mama Bear" on them. I kind of walk on egg shells when it comes to disciplining other kids when the other parent isn't present. Most of the time the play dates for the kids do include mom play dates for me, but there are times when they bounce between houses in the neighborhood and I'm the one overseeing the interaction. 

I've heard the little ones not really meshing well and sometimes I think it's harder for me than it is for my daughter. She seems so resilient at times and I'm the one getting annoyed that someone isn't being nice to my little one. And I know kids have phases and disagreements and such but I hate when I see one being just generally mean. 

I have stepped in and limited Luna's contact with the offenders from time to time, especially when I see them leaving her in a haze of negativity. But, mostly I let her navigate her friendships and play dates on her own. Because these are the times for her to figure things out more and more on her own, and with less and less of my help. This is the sad truth of growing up.

Most often, play dates make everything better. They give Luna the interaction and energy burn she needs, and gives me time to be productive or catch up with other moms and socialize myself. I tend to be a recluse at times and just want to be lazy and hole up at home. Play dates make me get us out there more! It's a win win!

I'm interested to see how these things evolve. I'm interested to see how things go when sleepovers, drop off parties and events happen. I'm always so attached to being around her and unless she's with my husband or a babysitter, I am the one that is there the most. Letting her be more independent is a test on me as well. We'll see if I make the grade in about another 20 years when she finds her first therapist. For now, play on little one. I have a laundry list of, well laundry and such to do!

Kids Are Honest, Brutally, Rudely Honest

On our drive to church last week my daughter just blurts out, "Grandma's getting old mom. You're getting pretty old too." Thank you dear, daughter, thank you for that honest and astute observation.

Last week when my daughter was doing her horseback riding lessons, on a pregnant horse no less, she was talking about the horse having a big belly and her daddy having a big belly but daddy can't have a baby so his belly shouldn't be that big. Kids say the darnedest things!

When I was a nanny and in that awesome phase where you just turn 21 and begin drinking all the sugary, fattening things and dine out every meal and calories are just a concept, I became thicker, and much faster than in my pre-drinking age days. One afternoon one of the two year old girls I watched pushed on my stomach and said, "Is that your belly Ali? Is it FAT?" Her mother was a former model and her father was a neurosurgeon. I laughed and said, "Yes, but I'm working on it." Her father heard the exchange and said to her, "That is rude! You apologize to Ali!" I reassured him it was fine. She was two, after all.

The worst part is, she was completely right. Kids are usually right when it comes to these inconvenient observations. My daughter is a chatterbox from the moment she wakes up until she falls asleep but when she sneaks in that random honesty, it is brutal, hilarious and most often, heartwarming.

I have tried to raise her to not use silly, inane and mispronounced words and to have a very strong vocabulary. Although I will admit I love when she calls Nutella, "Nella." Her vocabulary bites me in the ass on a regular basis. My daughter is the one in the supermarket telling me how big her poop was. "It was enormous mom, HUGE!" She'll talk to me about how we should only pick our noses at home or in the car, not when we're at the store. She'll tell me how stinky daddy's farts are and that her vagina was really itchy today, all in public. I'm at least proud she is using descriptive, complete sentences.

I try not to act as though she can't say things out loud or be heard but say, "That's more talk for just you and I, maybe not the whole bread aisle at Publix." With her commentary comes wonderful conversations about random things, although sometimes can get a little dark.

She's about to be 6 so that death fixation phase is real and she told me recently I would definitely die before her, which was sad because she would miss me a lot. So with the dark truth came the heartwarming part. 

My favorite to date though, was her talking about who would die first, Brodie, her 8 year old pug, or her Grandpa. That one is really a coin toss because both could easily make it another 10+ years but it's all completely health dependent, which is a sad, harsh truth.

I try to deter her from using "unkind" words. We don't say "fat" about other people but maybe "I made a big fat bubble with my bubble wand," or "I had a big, fat sandwich today." I don't let her say "Oh my god," but instead, "Oh my gosh," or 'What the heck or hell," we quote Liz Lemon with "What the what?!?" And we don't say "Stupid;" that one isn't allowed at all.

I have these ridiculous mom moments where I laugh and get a little bit momma bear when it comes to altercations at school. Luna had been in Kindergarten about a month and got in trouble because she "Called a friend a name." I asked her to tell me what happened and she explained that one little boy called her a "Poopy face," and she said "Well, you're an idiot." As much as I had to be the mother who detests name calling, I mean, she was right. Calling someone a poopy face is indeed idiotic and can we give no points for a great retort and wonderful vocabulary?

This is why my mothering can be so...questionable but also kind of awesome. But this is also where their honesty is just amazing. Sometimes I wish we never learned to have those filters and blocks of "appropriateness" and we just were brutally honest because what I love is it's rare to see kids this age actually speak these words maliciously. They just observe and report. So it's kind of endearing. It's when we use the words in mean ways that we get into trouble. 

A few years ago I had said something as a joke with Luna in earshot when she was like 4, because a little boy had pushed her and I was talking to her about using her words to express herself, not using her hands and I said under my breath, "You can hurt a person way worse with your words anyway; lasting damage." My husband looked at me horrified, and barked, "Don't say that!"

There was truth to it though. Kids get hurt by the name calling and being told they aren't friends with so and so anymore. But they bounce back from cuts and bruises. That brutal honesty bounces off most little friends and from kids to other adults too. If only we could keep varying degrees of that honesty and amplify our kindness to a good medium.

In an exchange with one of my friends recently they were complaining about gaining weight. In no way was I going to be like "Yeah you're so much fatter," but I didn't want to discount what they were saying to me with like "Oh you look fine who cares, it's the holidays," so I responded with honesty and kindness. I said, "Look you've mentioned this before and I have your back no matter what and support you going to the gym and getting into a routine. I can even go with you, but I do think you still look awesome, even if you want to improve upon yourself." It seemed to have a calming effect with their worries but also give them a positive affirmation. This is something I feel like kids do so much more naturally.

When Luna says, "Daddy makes grilled cheese way better and you make pasta so crunchy," she often then says, "But I like your quesadilla better and daddy doesn't make good eggs." 
I've worked harder on finding this medium within myself but kids just seem to have a knack! Having a filter does come in handy, though, especially with my own parents, and my boss, which is something children don't even have a little bit. It's all about balance.


I intend to keep this momentum in balance and mindfulness this year, especially. Although, for now, I intend to enjoy the young, brutal honesty because when she's 16 and telling me I'm a horrible mom, I can revisit these moments and miss her stating I'm getting old. Those are more palatable truths and we all need those!